Virtuosi
by zealousrebelmaker
Summary: "We'll walk our own paths from now on, Takeshi," Emi said, but Takeshi wouldn't have that. "No. I won't let us." (alive!Kaori, Emi/Takeshi)
1. Prelude

**Virtuosi**

 _Prelude_

* * *

Vienna, Austria.

An interrupted performance where the soloist stops his or her performance midway is completely unforgivable - it earns the ire of the audience towards the soloist at large, and the impact is great. The damage is far worse than anyone can imagine. A musical experience was completely stripped away with a mere interruption, but the famed violinist Kaori Arima only garnered sympathy and even more expectation when she stopped midway at the third movement of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E Minor, Op. 64.

She was right there, a woman in white, the wife of the celebrated pianist Kousei Arima, playing the violin with much skill, but more importantly, with a sense of character that enamoured everyone who listened to her. There was a catch though, Kaori was pregnant, and she still wanted to put on a good show for her Vienna debut, and as soon as she reached midway the third movement, she stopped.

The orchestra stopped.

Water pooled between Kaori Arima's legs.

The conductor looked extremely pale, until Kaori shuddered, looking at him as she said something in hesitant German, having rehearsed that in the event of a casualty, and a female flautist ran to grab Kaori in case she was to fall down.

Gasps and babbles of German sentences and words erupted from the audience, and from where Takeshi Aiza sat, he felt Emi Igawa and Kousei Arima run to the stage immediately. He followed suit - he could see Kaori gasping for air like a fish out of water, but by the time he reached the stage, she was lowered comfortably down to the ground by the female members of the orchestra and the audience alike.

Takeshi saw Kousei next, pushing his way towards his terrified wife, and then he heard a myriad of voices.

 _Emi's voice._ "Give her some room!"

"I'm her husband!" _Kousei's voice._ "Please, I need to see her!"

Everything else was a blur to him after he told Emi that he was going to get the car.

* * *

Four months later, Emi brings up the topic of Kaori's momentary sensation in a café while talking to Takeshi.

Austrian newspapers as well as Japanese newspapers announced the birth of Akira Arima, named after Takeshi's tutor, Akira Takayanagi. The baby boy immediately had acclaim in the musical world, and it wasn't surprising given his heritage. People wondered whether he'd become a violinist like his mother, or a pianist like his father, or _both_ , and he might become a conductor.

They took Kaori Arima's interrupted Viennese concert as a blessing to the music world. Naturally, when they couldn't think of a good name for the baby (since Kousei was awful with names and Kaori was no better), Akira's parents turned to the prospect of naming their son after someone famous, or someone who had brought an impact to someone's life. An odd choice fell on Takayanagi-sensei, and the wiry, bespectacled man almost cried with dramatics and theatrics when they decided to name the boy after him.

"Takayanagi-sensei said that he'd die happy," Takeshi laughed. "I heard they're trying out for a daughter this time, Emi?"

Emi drank her tea and prodded at her cake. They were now back in Japan, perfectly at home and at peace. "We're 22, Takeshi. They married when they were 20, and now with Akira being born, if they get some luck with getting a daughter, they just might have her when we're 24."

"Woah, that's early," the blond pianist gawked. "That Kousei...I knew that he couldn't keep his hands off-"

"Not exactly," Emi corrected with a cat-like grin. "Kousei's a bundle of nerves. I think Kaori-chan was the one who made the moves during the honeymoon, and after."

"How many kids did Kaori want again?" he asked, quite unnerved.

"Enough boys and girls to fill a house," she said, word for word. "But I think Kousei will talk her out of it."

Takeshi noticed that Emi was especially perceptive when it comes to these sort of things- maybe because she can sympathize with Kaori more despite not even having a boyfriend, much less getting pregnant. Girl things. Beside the table were her purchases: baby bottles, some baby clothes and a tiny toy xylophone for Akira to play with. Granted, Akira may be a little too young for the xylophone, but at least it's something.

"And you?" he found himself asking, and that garnered a surprised reaction from the raven-haired pianist.

"Me? What about me?"

"How many kids would you like?" The words came out rather absentmindedly, and he realized it much too late.

What followed was something very Emi-like.

"W-What are you talking about, Takeshi?! I'm a single, i-independent woman and I'm currently not looking, thank you very much! W-What kind of question is that?! L-Look, if you run your mouth again...!"

Takeshi had his eyes shut extremely tightly.

"...a-and we're 22, Takeshi, fix your stupid hair already! Surely you're bored of it staying up all the time?! When we were in Vienna, people thought that you were a delinquent rocker and it was so _embarrassing..._ "

"H-Hey, hey, Emi, that's kind of harsh," Takeshi stammered, and Emi glared.

"Listen, _fix your hair._ "

"Ah..."

Emi's phone buzzed, and she took it from her bag easily enough, swiping the screen as she scrutinized the message that she received. After a moment's pause, Takeshi opened his eyes hesitantly, and blinked as Emi sighed.

"Who's it from?" he asked, and Emi called for the bill.

"No one," Emi replied, then got up and took the bag of baby supplies. "Let's take these to Akira-kun."

* * *

Emi Igawa had never thought of herself as a domestic person.

She looks at her gift for little Akira, wondering how the hell did she even think of purchasing them without experience with babies firsthand. Takeshi was driving as usual, cursing at random drivers and speeding through traffic lights, but Emi was too caught up in her thoughts to rebuke him as usual.

Babies.

A family.

Maybe that was what Kousei wanted all along: to love his wife, Kaori Miyazono, and to have their little miracle of a son together.

It's so odd- it seemed as if she was locked in time where all three of them were 14 years old, getting along like normal children with a passion for the piano. She didn't know about Kaori-chan until Kousei won the Eastern Japan Piano Competition and bolted right for the door to the hospital. Takeshi and Nagi followed, and she had to excuse herself to try and find out what was going on...

...and she saw Kaori Miyazono, completely unconscious in the intensive care unit.

But what mattered to Kousei was that she was alive.

 _Alive._

What a word.

* * *

 **NOTES:**

I finished watching Shigatsu. I cried. Shigatsu was the biggest lie ever.

This is an AU where Kaori lives, marries Kousei (I personally think Kaori Arima sounds very nice) and they both have a baby son...but it's not focused on them, sorry. It's focused on Emi and Takeshi instead, and I intend to put more of a Nodame Cantabile type of setting, specifically the Paris-Hen atmosphere as well as the Finale atmosphere. The first season, in my opinion, was a bit too silly.


	2. Parenthood

**Virtuosi**

 _1: Parenthood_

* * *

Akira lazily slept on the lid of the grand piano with a baby mattress beneath him and a baby blanket over him.

It's an _Arima_ trait, Kaori thought to herself, but Kousei also reckoned that it was a _Miyazono_ thing. Maybe both families had their children sleeping anywhere and everywhere and the unfortunate trait passed on to their baby son.

One thing that Akira may have developed on his own was the ability to be a very sound sleeper.

Kaori played Mozart's variations of _'Ah! vous dirais-je maman'_ on that said piano with her foot firmly pressed on the sostenuto pedal, albeit in an amateurish fashion. She still squinted at the music score, mainly because she had dropped piano for so long that pressing the keys again made her own playing sound like a lethargic whale compared to her husband's.

"Kaori," came Kousei's gentle voice, followed by a kiss on her cheek, and the blonde-haired woman giggled.

"Kousei."

"Emi and Takeshi are coming over," the bespectacled pianist laughed, sitting down beside Kaori on the piano bench. "We can't leave Akira up here."

"But he loves it up there!" Kaori grinned, excitedly pointing at their baby son. "He doesn't mind his mama's horrible playing- he'll grow up to love me more than you one day, don't you think, Kousei?" she joked. Kousei looked mock-affronted, but it only brought out his wife's signature laughter.

He hears his wife's healthy bouts of laughter, and he is so grateful for it.

Akira's birth wasn't a smooth one - Kousei almost thought that Kaori was going to die in the process, just like when they were 14 and she had to go for her surgery while he had to compete in that piano competition. The _Ballade_ was somewhat of a miracle, a driving piece of hope to make him not lose his composure just like how he did when he lost his mother, and four months ago, the fear of back then resurfaced without warning.

Kaori boasted of her nerves of steel and body of iron right after the birth: _"I'm the ideal wife, aren't I, Kousei? A boy! I bore you a son!"_

To be honest, whether it was a son or daughter, he didn't care.

"Emi-chan's been really supportive the past few months," Kaori smiled to herself, looking at the tiny miracle above the piano that she and Kousei created together. "It's so surreal...so strange, yet it's so magical to give birth to our son."

Kousei nodded with a warm smile of his own. "A miracle?"

" _Our_ miracle," Kaori agreed. "And we'll make another one, and another one, and another one-!"

"H-Hey, K-Kaori...!" the bespectacled man choked.

"I still want four more kids, Kousei!" she demanded.

"T-That's _impossible!_ "

"It is! It totally is! I just need to nudge you at the right direction, that's all! Then when I do, it's _you_ who won't stop-"

"K-Kaori!"

The doorbell rings, much to Kousei's relief, and he answers the door to see Emi and Takeshi right there with gifts for Akira. Takeshi gave his signature grin while Emi politely bowed, holding the gifts in her hands.

"Kousei," Emi acknowledged, then walked right past him to greet a very delighted Kaori.

When you get married, your wife would most likely have a lot of friends. In Kousei Arima's case, Kaori Miyazono was so socially magnetic that people practically flock to her with ease. Excited giggles came from behind Kousei and Takeshi, along with Kaori's delighted cry of _"Bottles!"_ , and the two men were frankly at a loss.

"I...guess you should come in," Kousei laughed nervously, and Takeshi walks in very slowly.

The Arima household was indeed a family home. Pictures of family, friends and the loving couple decorated the tops of shelves, Despite numerous plans to move somewhere around Europe, neither Kousei nor Kaori acted on it, having loved Japan too much. Akira remained asleep on top of the piano, and Takeshi looked around despite having been to the house so many times.

Funny how things can suddenly change for the better when there's a new child.

The world of music is magical and wonderful, but only those who are in the world itself can truly appreciate it. Unfortunately, it cost him more than what he could handle, yet music serves as a powerful salve against everything else.

His girlfriend from high school left him because of his undivided time to the piano. _'I couldn't take it,'_ she told him. _'You never spend time with me anymore.'_

 _Ah, Takeshi Aiza._ _What a way to screw yourself up._

"Takeshi," Kaori beamed, pointing over at her sleeping son. "Doesn't he look just like Takayanagi-sensei? You should know, right?"

The blond-haired male pianist looked at the sleeping face of Akira Arima and grinned. "Just like the old man himself."

"Why don't you two spend the night?" Kousei invited the two. "There's nothing much to do, isn't there? Kaori's taking a break from teaching, and I'm trying to help out at the next Maihou competition. We've really nothing much on our hands."

Emi smiled. "I'll have to get my things then."

"Eh, fine by me," Takeshi agreed. "Besides, we've got some serious man-to-man talk, Kousei."

Both Kaori's and Emi's faces paled.

 _Man-to-man talk?_

"Always good to have a few discussions here and there," Kousei laughed, nodding.

Kaori Arima suddenly had a rather guiltily pleasant thought of her husband gallivanting off with Takeshi Aiza.

* * *

"Emi and I were thinking of going to Paris," Takeshi said, cracking open a can of beer. Kousei did the same, bracing himself for his inevitable intolerance.

Paris was where they had all studied for their undergraduates in music, so it didn't really surprise Kousei. Takeshi had always spoke of wanting to be come a lecturer in a music university, otherwise if that dream is dashed, he might as well join a rock band and become its lead electric guitarist and vocalist. While Kousei would've paid anything to see Takeshi rock the stage, Emi seemed a bit apprehensive, mainly because Takeshi's _rocker_ image seemed to scare off quite a few people who attended concerts in Europe.

"That sounds like a great idea," Kousei smiled, taking a sip of his beer. "When are you two planning to leave?"

Takeshi sighed. "Next week. I hope things go well, really."

"Things will work out," the bespectacled man said. "You and Emi are the finest pianists I've ever heard there."

"Maybe," Takeshi dismally said, "maybe not. All four of us went to Paris as students and best friends, and you've even gone and married and you have a kid now. Feeling grounded is your thing, Kousei, but as for me..."

Kousei stayed quiet for a while. "Did Nagi accept your decision?"

"Nagi actually wanted me to leave," Takeshi joked.

"You're having doubts, aren't you? Whether you should stay or go?"

Takeshi Aiza closed his eyes, wondering if this is the big leap he always wanted.

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter is a little short, but don't worry. The next chapters will be a bit longer.

Also, yes, Akira is a cute little baby boy who just might get his own fic one day. One day. He should be a timpani player to betray his parents' expectations.


End file.
